Winter Memories
by TheHttydRaven
Summary: Just a quick glimpse into how I imagine a young Virgil from my 'It Came From Over The Wall' AU fanfiction that's probably so au you could read it fandom-blind.   Virgil Thorn going sledding with his father for his first snowfall.


Many years ago, when the threat of the Worgen was just a fairytale and Virgil Thorn was just six years old, he went sledding with his father, Andrew Thorn, down the West Bridge near the docks of Surleis for the first snowfall he had ever experienced in his short life.

Being only six, Virgil did not care too much for the view of the foggy iced over lake that was visible from the bridge when his father pointed it out, but he was excited over the snow that had been pushed into large mounds that lined the sides of the iced-over streets.

As the man watched his son cautiously poke the the cold white snow with a finger, Andrew rolled a small snowball in his hand before tossing it gently at Virgil, where it landed - splat - on top of his brown hair.

Virgil giggled, before reaching up and grinning happily as he scraped off the snow, holding it in his hands.

Virgil quickly scrambled over to his father, shoes slipping and sliding across the icy cobblestones as he bumped into his father's legs, before looking to and holding up his pile of snow that was held within his small hands, holding the small pile of white up to Andrew.

"No, no Virgil, you've gotta throw it at me, that's the game," Andrew chuckled and patted his son's head, before pointing to his broad chest. "Right here!"

Virgil backed up, before narrowing his eyes and closing his small fist around the snow, before flinging it towards his father.

And if went right into the street.

The young boy stared at the pile of snow for a moment before turning to the snow drift and gathering more snow. Virgil took a few steps closer to his father before throwing the lump of snow towards the taller man, covering him in white powder.

Andrew laughed before rushing to the snow bank, gathering more snow.

"Virgil, I challenge you! To a snow ball fight!" Andrew jokingly bowed to his son, before grinning and flinging a ball of snow at him, hitting Virgil in the leg.

After the father and son had exchanged a few more snowballs, Andrew took his son's hand and led him down the street towards the West Bridge and the Agricultural District.

As the pair reached the bridge Virgil spotted his friend Roman with his father, the pair pulling a sled up the sloped bridge, Remus - Roman's brother - seated upon it.

"Andrew! How are you today?" As the group reached the top of the ramped bridge, Thomas dropped the sleds rope to the ground as he moved to converse with Andrew.

"Great! I heard about your husband and that crazy horse. How is he doing..?"

As their fathers talked, Virgil slid over to Roman and said hello, before the two young boys excitedly began talking about the snow that had blanketed their homes overnight.

Roman grinned, before running to the sled he had abandoned when Virgil had shown up, grabbing the rope and dragging it back to his friend.

"Do you want to go on a ride? It's super fun!" Roman grinned as he leaned over and shoved Remus off the wooden sled, the twin tumbling to the icy ground and sliding along it as he yelped in shock.

"Roman! Play nice!" Thomas called to his son as the two fathers watched their children play.

"Okay dad!" Roman rolled his eyes, before turning to Virgil again. "So? Do you?!"

"I don't know..." Virgil cast an anxious glance at the icy slope, unsure if it was safe to go hurtling down it.

"Oh come on," Roman whined as he bounced on his feet. "It's so much fun!"

"Can my dad come with me..?" Virgil hesitantly asked, not wanting to seem like he was scared to his friend.

"Of course! My dad went with me because I didn't want to sit with Remus!" Roman wrinkled his nose as he stuck his tongue out at his twin, who was sitting in the snow, seemingly building a snow castle.

"Okay, I'll go!" Virgil grinned at his friend before running over to his father and tugging on his thick winter coat.

"Yes, Virge?" Andrew glanced down at the boy as he smiled.

"Roman wants me to try his sled and he said you could go with me!" Virgil excitedly said as he pointed at the wooden sled beside where Roman was now sat, crafting a sword made of packed snow.

"Sorry Thomas, duty calls!" Andrew chuckled as Virgil grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the sled.

"Have fun!' Thomas called to his friend, before wandering over to Remus and crouching next to him to examine his creation.

As the sled was small and didn't have room for the two of them to sit, Virgil clambered onto Andrew's back and gripped his father's fur cloak with a small fist, his other arm encircling his fathers chest.

"You ready bud?" Andrew called back to the boy perched on his back.

"Yeah!" Virgil, arms tightening around his father, shouted excitedly. "Go, go!"

Andrew lifted his feet and let the sled move, the pair picking up speed and flying down the bridge.

Virgil shrieked with laughter and glee as the world whipped past him and his father, not caring as sharp pellets of cold snow and his father's brown hair flew into his face, just caring for the exhilaration that filled him.

Andrew whooped and laughed with him.

The ride ended too quickly, in Virgil's opinion.

As Andrew used his furred boots to help slow them down, digging them into the street so they didn't shoot off the bustling street that was ahead of them.

When they had finally slowed to a stop, Virgil rolled off his father's back and sprawled out on the fluffy snow that lined the side of the street.

It only took one look at his son's red-cheeked giggling face for Andrew's face to break into a wide smile, pride and love for his son clear in his gaze.

*"Again! Again! Let's go again!" Virgil giggled previous fears of sledding forgotten as he demanded another ride.

"All right, again, again, we'll take one more ride but then you'll give it back to Roman." Andrew nodded d as he pushed himself up and grasped the rope of the sled, looping it through his belt loops so both of his hands were free as he pulled it back to the top of the bridge."Are you just going to lay there Virgil?"

Virgil's little six-year-old arms clad in his little fur winter coat shot up into the air. "Carry me!" The little boy cried out.

"No Virgil, I'm not carrying you all the way back up." Andrew sighed as he crouched by his sons head.

Virgil's small arms crumpled on top of his little face, the young boy letting out a whine as his request was denied. Andrew sighed as he threw his hands into the air and said, "I'm going to have to drag you back up this bridge I guess!"

Virgil stayed on the ground, but let out a surprised giggle as his father picked up his leg and began to drag him through the snow, leaving a large track behind them.

"Daddy! Okay, okay!" Virgil called out in between his laughter, his breath fogging as he rapidly breathed in the cold air.

Andew dropped Virgil's foot, before sweeping him up and depositing him on his shoulders, holding his small legs as he walked up the bridge.

"Daddy! Why didn't mommy come with us?" Virgil tiredly rested his chin upon his dad's brown hair, eyes lidding as the activities of the day caught up with him. "She would-" Virgil yawned. "Would love it!"

"Your mother doesn't like winter Virge. It's too cold for her." Andrew answered, noting his son's tiredness and after reaching the top of the bridge he quickly said his goodbyes to Thomas and handed him his sled, before turning and starting to walk back to their home.

"But she could just wear a coat!" Virgil mumbled. "Coats are warm! But mine's all wet and not warm..."

"Well how about we hurry home and get you changed into your pajamas?" Andrew offered. "I'm sure your mom can make you a nice cup of hot chocolate and read you a bed time story."

"But I want you to read me a story..." Virgil tightened his arm's around his fathers neck, burying his face into the man's brown locks.

"Okay, if that's what you want. What story would you like?" Andrew asked his son, but received no response. As Andrew listened, he could hear quiet snores emanating from the child.

Andrew smiled slightly before readjusting the grip he had upon his sons legs as he walked towards their home.

Virgil being so small at the time, remembers little from that day when he tries to look back upon it in his adult years. He remembers feeling the intense cold as the snow fell upon his cheeks for the first time, the delightful yet stomach-dropping thrill of shooting down the bridge, the warmth emanating from his father as the man carried his cold and exhausted son home after the day of play.

Happiness is what Virgil chooses remember of the times when his father was still alive.

In the dark of night when he sits alone in his home, the loss gets to Virgil. But he keeps on going. Details of the past may change and fade with time but that immense happiness of being together, playing in the snow on that winter day with his father, will never dissolve.


End file.
